domingo
vestida y alborotada
Nada se siente mejor que llegar a una cita y darte cuenta de que estas en el lugar equivocado, que te citaron con la esperanza de que no asistieras. Y te quedas ahi, simulando una llamada inesperada para irte, para que nadie note tu desilucion y coraje mientras te alejas del lugar
viernes
lunes
“ Once on a yellow piece of paper with green lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn’t think
he could reach the kitchen."
-the perks of being a wallflower
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Chops”
because that was the name of his dog
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and a gold star
And his mother hung it on the kitchen door
and read it to his aunts
That was the year Father Tracy
took all the kids to the zoo
And he let them sing on the bus
And his little sister was born
with tiny toenails and no hair
And his mother and father kissed a lot
And the girl around the corner sent him a
Valentine signed with a row of X’s
and he had to ask his father what the X’s meant
And his father always tucked him in bed at night
And was always there to do it
Once on a piece of white paper with blue lines
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Autumn”
because that was the name of the season
And that’s what it was all about
And his teacher gave him an A
and asked him to write more clearly
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because of its new paint
And the kids told him
that Father Tracy smoked cigars
And left butts on the pews
And sometimes they would burn holes
That was the year his sister got glasses
with thick lenses and black frames
And the girl around the corner laughed
when he asked her to go see Santa Claus
And the kids told him why
his mother and father kissed a lot
And his father never tucked him in bed at night
And his father got mad
when he cried for him to do it.
Once on a paper torn from his notebook
he wrote a poem
And he called it “Innocence: A Question”
because that was the question about his girl
And that’s what it was all about
And his professor gave him an A
and a strange steady look
And his mother never hung it on the kitchen door
because he never showed her
That was the year that Father Tracy died
And he forgot how the end
of the Apostle’s Creed went
And he caught his sister
making out on the back porch
And his mother and father never kissed
or even talked
And the girl around the corner
wore too much makeup
That made him cough when he kissed her
but he kissed her anyway
because that was the thing to do
And at three a.m. he tucked himself into bed
his father snoring soundly
That’s why on the back of a brown paper bag
he tried another poem
And he called it “Absolutely Nothing”
Because that’s what it was really all about
And he gave himself an A
and a slash on each damned wrist
And he hung it on the bathroom door
because this time he didn’t think
he could reach the kitchen."
-the perks of being a wallflower
De repente te das cuenta de que todo ha terminado,de verdad. Ya no hay vuelta atrás. Lo sientes.Y justo entonces intentas recordar en que momento comenzó todo,y descubres que todo empezó antes de lo que pensabas, mucho antes.Es ahí, justo en ese momento cuando te das cuenta de que las cosas solo ocurren una vez.Y por mucho que te esfuerces,ya nunca volverás a sentir lo mismo.Ya nunca tendrás la sensación de estar a tres metros sobre el cielo.-3msc
jueves
The Only Difference Between Martyrdom And Suicide Is Press Coverage
“Swear to shake it up, if you swear to listen, Oh we’re still so young, desperate for attention. I aim to be your eyes, trophy boys, trophy wives”
Mary está sentada en su cama, como todo el tiempo llorando, escuchando las voces en su cabeza recordándole lo insignificante que es, las escucha gritándole que lo haga, que no merece vivir.
Escucha a su padre tocando la puerta de su habitación, preguntándole si se encuentra bien, ya que no bajo a cenar; le dice que todo se encuentra bien, que solo está cansada y que no tiene hambre, pero no es la verdad.
Una nueva voz aparece dentro de su cabeza, es una voz familiar, la de su mejor amiga Lily, diciéndole una y otra vez “Haces eso porque necesitas atención, necesitas que la gente te vea, solo lo haces para estar bajo el reflector”.
Es su mejor amiga, le confeso su problema y solo se burló, le dijo eso y se alejó, si su mejor amiga hizo eso entonces nadie se preocupa por ella.
Cierra los ojos y siente ese conocido dolor a lo largo de su brazo, esa punzada de satisfacción, de saber que todo estará bien en un minuto, la alegría de que las voces se callaran, la esperanza de que todo cambiara, Mary agacha la mirada y ve la sangre correr a lo largo de sus manos, gotear el suelo y comenzar a formar una mancha en su alfombra. “mi madre me matara al ver esto”-piensa, pero nada le importa. Entonces todo se detiene, ella cae al suelo, hay mucha sangre y lo único que hace es sonreír. Si claro, todo lo que ella quería es atención, por eso la única persona que sabía de su problema era Lily.
Las voces dejan de escucharse y Mary cierra los ojos antes de caer en un sueño del que nunca despertara. Porque solo es una joven, desesperada por atención.
sábado
¿porque?
¿porque hoy?¿porque TU?
¿que ganas con buscarme?
crees que me haces sentir bien? no, solo me lastimas.
¿porque despues de todo este tiempo decides buscarme?
¿crees que puedo perdonarte..despues de lo que hiciste?
¿crees que puedes presentarte y que correre a tus brazos llorando de felicidad y que todo estara bien?
no sabes todo lo que he pasado, lo que he llorado, lo que he deseado que volvieras, pero ya no.
hoy me buscaste..y no quiero saber nada de ti..
¿Quieres una oportunidad?
Esa oportunidad la perdiste hace años, el dia que te fuiste, el dia que rompiste esa promesa..el dia que me abandonaste.
jueves
Tiempo
El tiempo paso y tu cara se esfumo de mi mente y de mi corazon, ya no te recuerdo, ya no recuerdo el color de tus ojos, tu rostro, tus labios que me volvian loca..simplemente ya no te recuerdo.
Y asi como te borraste de mi mente tambien lo hiciste de mi corazon, pienso en ti y ya mi corazon no salta, ni se agita.
Si te vuelvo a ver..no se lo que hare, tal vez no te reconozca..tal vez todos mis sentimientos hacia ti regresen..o no.
Y asi como te borraste de mi mente tambien lo hiciste de mi corazon, pienso en ti y ya mi corazon no salta, ni se agita.
Si te vuelvo a ver..no se lo que hare, tal vez no te reconozca..tal vez todos mis sentimientos hacia ti regresen..o no.
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